


Stages

by 87sighs



Category: The Bold Type
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 14:18:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19477654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/87sighs/pseuds/87sighs
Summary: “It’s like, one minute I’m up, the next I’m down. One day I’m ready to jump out of bed and make lemonade - you know? - then the next, I hit snooze three times and can’t get up.”A short exploration of Kat in 3x10 "Breaking Through the Noise" and how she might start to find herself again.





	Stages

  
  


Sky blue posters, crumpled and dirty outside her building. Garbage. 

_ You did the same thing. Who cares? _

She doesn’t want to cry standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

They’re just posters, cheap pieces of paper. They aren’t throwing  _ her  _ away. It’s not the same thing. 

It feels like it is.

{}{}{}

“Can we just…” 

Tia stops kissing her neck, hands go still beneath Kat’s T-shirt, warm against her belly. 

“Yeah, of course.” She scoots back, turns on her side. 

Eyes closed, Kat murmurs thanks, rolls to mirror her. “I’m just--I don’t know. Tired, I guess.” She reaches out, lays her arm over Tia’s waist. A tiny smile forms as gentle fingers rub at her shoulder. 

“Campaigns are intense. It can take a lot out of you.”

“Especially if you lose?” 

_ She did say she was ready for it to be over. _

Kat tries to quiet that cynical voice. She regrets saying anything. 

“I’ve lost elections before but it’s never been my name, my face that’s put out there. So I don’t know exactly what you’re going through, but I’m sure other people have felt it too. This is normal. You’ll bounce back.” 

She’s not entirely convinced, but she also doesn’t want to keep talking about it right now. She cracks open her eyes, says “I got the Zora account, and we’re using Jonell, Priya, Katerina, and Paula.” 

Tia smiles. “So you’ll get your committee after all. See? That’s a silver lining.” 

“Yeah.” 

She tells herself it’s enough.

{}{}{}

“...I really want to stay on this journey with you, but I can’t do that as your girlfriend. I think I can only do that as your friend.” 

Tia looks away, stares vacantly in this dim little club. 

“I’m just--I’m not in a good place right now and I--”

“I was okay taking things slow,” she says, almost to herself. When her eyes land back on Kat, they’re wet for the first time Kat’s ever seen. 

Something claws at her throat, and Kat forces it back down. “I know, and it’s not about you or Adena or anything like that. I just...can’t.” 

Tia shakes her head, smiles. It’s almost mechanical, so far from its usual brightness. 

_ Another concession. Good job. _

“You don’t owe me an explanation. I get it. We both just want different things right now.” She blinks a few times, typical upbeat confidence wavering. “I knew it was risky, mixing business and pleasure.” 

“I really do hope we can be friends. Stay friends.” Her voice sounds thin to her own ears. She hopes the other woman believes it. 

Tia looks at her, still concerned, says, “Take care of yourself, Kat.” 

“You too.”

It’s the right thing to do. Doesn’t make it hurt less.

{}{}{}

She didn’t expect this to be as clean and straightforward, but she’s completely blindsided. Adena at Scarlet. Every day. 

“...That’s really great, Adena. Scarlet’s a great place to work. I know it’s not really what you’re used to, but I think you’ll be happy there--”

“Kat, please.” She exhales, unsteady, loud in the gaping silence of the apartment. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to apologize.” Adena presses her lips together, brushes away tears just starting to fall. “I shouldn’t have assumed.” 

“Why did you?” she asks slowly, frowning as she replays their moments together. “I mean, we haven’t talked about...any of that.” 

“It’s what I’ve been thinking about--what I’ve wanted for weeks, and when you kept coming to me, confiding in me, I thought--” Adena stops, wraps protective arms around her middle. “I shouldn’t have.” 

“I’m just not in the right place now.” 

Adena looks at her, eyes glistening. “Is there still a chance we--”

“I don’t know. I don’t know when or if I’ll be ready.” Kat pauses, fidgets with her ring until it’s just digging into her skin. She averts her eyes. “I’m not asking you to wait.” 

“Not asking me--” Adena looks up, helpless, tastes the words bitter on her own tongue.

“Adena, listen...I know this isn’t what you want, and maybe I shouldn’t even ask but...I really need you as a friend right now. I’m hoping you can do that.” 

_ Why should she? _

“These last few days, talking with you, it really did help, and that’s something I know I need to figure any of this out.” 

Dark eyes meet hers, but Adena doesn’t say anything for what feels like a long time. There’s an uncertain gulf between them despite the physical closeness.

Eventually, she nods, reaches for Kat’s hand. “Okay.” 

Kat doesn’t know if she’s comforted or not. 

{}{}{}

She helps Mrs. Diaz move in with a cousin. It’s a small, noisy walk-up - a temporary solution - but it’s better than nothing. It’s a win. 

The cousin is curious how they know each other and Mrs. Diaz heaps all kinds of praise on her, says how glad she is to live in Kat’s district.

But it’s not hers. She failed. It doesn’t feel good being reminded. Kat smiles anyway.

A win - just like the Zora campaign - except all her supposed wins lately feel hollow, watered down.

{}{}{}

@10razer01

Just another unqualified SJW looking for mor handouts #bereal

“Fuck you.” 

She keeps scrolling anyway, knows it’s a bad idea even as her thumb glides across the screen.

@ShastoNY

we got your back sis, keep your head up. 

@aman_x

Do we? She just found out she’s black.

Kat turns off her phone. It’s just noise.

{}{}{}

If there’s one thing that was normalized in her home growing up, it was talking and communication. Seeking help to cope and make sense of things. She knows it would be so simple to call her parents - just to get their non-professional opinions, if nothing else - has her phone in hand to do it. 

And yet she doesn’t. 

It’s not that she’s embarrassed, there’s nothing wrong with it. She’s not. 

_ Then what is it? _

{}{}{}

“Do you remember that book when we were kids?  _ The Giving Tree _ , I think?” 

“I sure do. Shel Silverstein. It was one of my favorites.” 

“I already try to promote women of color,” she says, trusting they’ll understand where she’s going. “I donate to Democratic candidates, Planned Parenthood. I do all this stuff but now...now it doesn’t feel like enough. Like I need to do more to make up for the city council campaign, go bigger.” 

“Bigger isn’t always better.” 

Sutton makes a noise. “Well…”

The laugh surprises her, gives her tears a split unguarded second to escape. She presses the heel of her hand against her eyes, feels her friends lend their touch. 

“I feel like that tree sometimes, like I don’t have anything left. But it’s dumb. I know I have so many things I can still do--”

“Hey,” Sutton gets her attention, eyes already fierce in her defense, “don’t call my best friend dumb. And you are not some sad little stump. You’re still a mighty oak or redwood or some other fabulous tree.” 

Jane says, “I always wondered why the tree was still happy in the end.”

They’re smiling over Sutton’s style of a pep talk, but Kat silently wonders too. It doesn’t feel good to her right now, doesn’t make her feel happy to give give give. Not when she’s still afraid of letting people down. 

_ But at least you have people that give back. _

She takes heart at that fact. She does have a lot to be thankful for.

“You need time to heal,” Sutton tells her. “And water and sunlight, some oxygen, I guess. Help me, Jane.” 

“Fabulous tree friends.” 

“Perhaps a rustic shrub in Jane’s case.” Sutton holds Kat’s hand in both of her own.

“Your feelings aren’t wrong,” Jane echoes Sutton, more or less. “And we’re here no matter what.” 

Kat rests her head against Jane. “I know.” 

“Babe, I know this is like a touchy subject but…have you considered therapy?” 

“You’d basically be paying for something you already get from us for free, which is dumb--” 

“--you just said--”

“I can, you can’t.” Kat rolls her eyes, nudges Suttton’s shoulder. Sutton pushes right back. “As I was saying, it might help to talk to someone new.” 

“Yeah, I’m thinking about it,” she sighs. “It’s like, one minute I’m up, the next I’m down. One day I’m ready to jump out of bed and make lemonade - you know? - then the next, I hit snooze three times and can’t get up.” 

Jane squeezes her shoulder. 

Softer, Kat admits, “It scares the hell out of me...I don’t know. Maybe.” She laughs without any real humor. “I have talked  _ so  _ much shit about ‘my shrink parents’,  _ god _ .” 

“Jacqueline would say do what scares you. Although I’m questioning that method these days.” 

“Pinstripe?” 

“Of course.” 

“How’s it going?” 

“It’s going,” she answers, noncommittal. 

Sutton tops off their glasses. “Look at it this way, Jacqueline will be back before you know it, and you’ll have plenty of material for the dot com. Plus you’ve got me back for a while.” 

“Honestly, I miss Alex.” She gestures with her glass. “Guess what I caught this horndog doing?” 

“Phone sex with Richard is  _ not  _ cutting it. I thought I had time. You used to take such long showers.” 

“Again, Alex. I was trying to be considerate of his Spartan ways.” 

“It’s funny,” Sutton says, clicks her tongue, “you never tried to impress me. Let yourself go almost as soon as I moved in.” 

“l couldn’t even meditate this morning because of the sex fumes,” Jane goes on, ignoring her.

Kat laughs. She loves these goobers. 

“I’ve been trying to meditate.” 

“And?” 

“You just sit and think.” She screws up her face. “Not a fan.” 

{}{}{}

“Hey, wait. Hold the elevator, please.” 

A hand reaches out, halting the door as Kat rushes in. She thanks the other woman, stares ahead as Adena presses the button for their floor. Her hands curl around a paper cup, steaming and fragrant. 

“Rough morning?” 

“How could you tell?” Kat fires back, sarcastic grin. “Running late, didn’t have time for breakfast or coffee. I think a bird shit in my purse. But other than that...” 

“I have dates.” 

“What?” 

“Dates. To eat. If you’d like some.” 

“Oh.” Kat flushes at being so slow on the uptake. She shakes her head. “Uh, I’m just gonna have something delivered. Thank you anyway.”

Adena watches her, modest smile. “Any time, Kat.” 

To fill the silence, she mentions, “I should be getting the final approval for the new Zora ads soon.” 

“I’m happy to hear that. You came up with a wonderful idea.” Then, as they near their destination, “I hope your day gets better.” 

Kat stares up at the display of their progress, the slow climb to each floor. 

“It’s looking up already.” Adena snickers. “Just a little” - Kat’s smile is crooked as she glances at her - “a little elevator humor.” 

Adena touches her arm as they step through the door.

“I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, see you.”

{}{}{}

“Your sandals are cute, baby.” 

Sutton stops a few feet from her face, models the strappy shoes appropriately. 

“Thank you. Why are you in the floor?” She calls out, “Jane, did you know Kat was in the floor?” 

“Yes, go around.”

Kat gives her a thumbs up. “I’m good, promise.” 

“Because collapsing on the floor is how most people end good days.” 

She hears them puttering around the kitchen, dinnerware and utensils clanking, conversation being volleyed back and forth. Kat sits up, crosses her legs to eat at the coffee table as she thanks her friends for the pasta and wine. 

“So...in case it wasn’t obvious, therapy went well.” 

{}{}{}

Her parents pick up on the first ring, and that’s when Kat gets antsy. She crosses her legs then uncrosses them, gets up to pace. She’s not normally a pacer. Her mom puts the phone on speaker. Kat smiles when her dad calls her baby girl. 

“Hey, uh, so I just wanted to tell you--to say that I, um--I love you.” 

“We love you, too, sweetheart.” 

“I know I don’t say that enough, so I just wanted to.” She clears her throat awkwardly. “And I, uh, have also been going to therapy. To deal with the election loss and just...stuff. So yeah...I guess I was listening to you all these years.” 

“We knew you were, in your own way.” 

“Have we mentioned lately how proud of you we are?”

“You have actually.” She lays down, face resting on her arm. She doesn’t try to hide the tiny wobble in her voice, knows there’s no judgement. “Thank you.”

{}{}{}

She’d take a big healthy breath if this wasn’t New York City. Instead she walks, waits until she’s in the park with her friends surrounded by trees and bicycle riders and hipsters.

“I’m applying for head of digital. If it’s not going to be Jacqueline, why not me?” 

“You’d be amazing.” 

“Absolutely.” 

It’s not a guarantee regardless of her strong track record, her innovation, but it feels like the right move. Not as a consolation or because she should do it. Kat wants it. And if it’s not meant to be right now, she’ll adapt, one step at a time. 

“Yeah. I still have a lot to say.”


End file.
